


Great Set of Hydraulics

by Sleepy_lil_hyena



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Bisexuality, Drabble, I love my kinky OC polycule, Idiots in Love, Implied Sexual Content, Lazy Mornings, Multi, One Shot, Piss, Polyamory, Urination, What Have I Done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 00:02:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28947120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sleepy_lil_hyena/pseuds/Sleepy_lil_hyena
Summary: "Damn, boy, you frying chicken in there? No, seriously, you piss loud as fuck."I hate myself
Relationships: Harper Meowmeow/Blossom Andromeda/William Arthur "Looker" Glass/Fleet Admiral Mermista, Mermista/Original Character(s), Minor or Background Relationship(s), Perfuma/Scorpia (She-Ra)
Kudos: 2





	Great Set of Hydraulics

**Author's Note:**

> **HUGE FUCKING CONTENT WARNING** this contains a bunch of implied and not-so-implied piss kink-related banter because that's a thing I'm into and my OCs are into it too. Yes, all of them. Sorry, I don't make the rules. Anyway, if that's not your thing then hey good for you pal but maybe sit this one out.

Harper sighed, zipping the front of his jeans up, feeling quite relieved and free of the pressure he’d had in his bladder. Flushing, washing his hands--taking a minute to fix his messy ginger locks in the mirror--and then heading out of the bathroom, he took a minute to think of how odd it was that the bathroom at his girlfriend’s parents’ house was in such close proximity to the kitchen table. The water closet was right between the back door and the kitchen, which was...certainly a little awkward and voyeuristic in its placement. 

_ Must’ve been uncomfortable,  _ Harper thought,  _ Good thing Blossom has her own bathroom.  _

Across the room, unmistakably striking in all her punkish looks and imposing physique, Blossom sat at the table with her chin resting on her elbow. She perked up faintly as Harper reentered the room, causing the ginger catboy to smile slightly at the appreciative glance. Despite still nursing the coffee she’d grabbed on the way over, she didn’t seem terribly awake, but Harper definitely noticed a rousing in her eyes as she spotted him. He nodded at her in acknowledgement of this, only to receive a slightly perplexing reaction. His brow furrowed. 

_ Wait, is she laughing?  _ He asked himself. 

It certainly seemed that way. The half-scorpioni butch wasn’t exactly bursting into a full-stop guffaw, but the corners of her dark red lips were faintly lifting as she let out a quiet snorting noise. It was the kind of laugh one might react to a funny meme with, polite, restrained, discrete. There was definitely a humour behind her glasses, too. Her eyes shined a bit when she was laughing, and the look had returned. 

“Okay, well, you’re gonna have to share it with me,” Harper snarked. 

“Share what? My coffee? You had your own, kittycat. Yeesh,” Blossom blew her boyfriend’s request off, trying to sound inconspicuous. 

“No, Bloss, I mean--” the catboy sighed and then laughed dryly himself, “What’s so funny?” 

“Nothin’. I’m not laughing, you’re laughing.” 

“Oh, come on. I’m sure it’s not any worse than any of cat mom’s puns.” 

“ _ Well… _ ” Blossom sucked a breath in before clasping her hands on the table and smirking knowingly, “Babe,  _ you piss really fucking loudly _ .” 

Harper went red. Helped to have reddish fur, of course, but it was probably noticeable. The flick of his tail was likely something of a giveaway, that inquisitive little  _ fwip-fwip  _ that may as well have acted like his own personal portable lie detector test. He wasn’t quite sure what the appropriate reaction here was.

“Uhh…” he stammered. 

“Seriously. Like a deep fryer,” the mercury-haired punk teased. 

“W-well, uh, thanks, I think?” Harper choked, “That was a compliment, right? I-I’m not really sure what to do with this information.” 

This kind of banter wasn’t exactly new to their relationship. Living in the future definitely had its perks; sure, his parents were a biomechanical superhuman built for war and a half-cat mutant, and the two of them had both seen their fair share of horrible planetary turmoil in their time, but at least the stigma around kink experimentation was ancient history. Blossom would run her mouth about these sorts of things and he’d get the weirdest boner about it, seemingly out of nowhere. He remembered the first time they’d brought this up in some friend’s yard at a party, and that...really only added to the confused arousal. 

“Something like that,” Blossom shrugged and sipped her coffee, her eyes half-lidded with some quiet mischief. 

Harper accepted the compliment and shrugged, odd and kinky though it may have been. He took a seat at the table beside Blossom, finding one of her calloused, cherry-nailed hands on the tabletop and gently entwining with it. As he was settling in, pondering eagerly about when exactly Blossom’s moms were going to return with brunch, he heard footsteps coming down the stairs. They had some heft, muffled slightly under the carpeted surface of the staircase. The Looking Glass, or more simply Looker--Harper wondered what sequence of events earned him that nickname during his time with the Royal Army, but he didn’t like talking about it, and he understood that--stepped off the last step and nodded to his partners, acknowledging their presence with the same roguish-yet-gentle warmth he always radiated. 

“Rose. Peach. How are we?” the blue-scaled blotter asked.

“Oh, y’know, we’re pretty good, I think,” Harper stated, tail flicking happily at his boyfriend’s presence, “Is unpacking going okay, baby?” 

“Yeah, definitely. Place is mighty comfy, I declare. It’s just, oh…” Looker brought a hand to his chin pensively, “Was somebody fryin’ bacon just now? I was under the impression that the Andromedas were bringing us back breakfast, so--” 

Blossom drove an elbow into Harper’s ribcage, the stony muscle prodding into the catboy’s soft exterior. He felt both of his green eyes go as wide as saucers. 

_ Well,  _ Harper thought,  _ Here we go again.  _

“Oh, no, no, no. No bacon here, babe,” Blossom smirked, sipping her coffee again. Harper’s trained ears could hear the tips of her nose ring clunk against the plastic lid. Seemed he wasn’t the only one with trained ears. “Meowmeow just had to pee is all.” 

Looker stood for a moment, unblinking. It seemed to be taking him a bit to put two and two together, but Harper wasn’t exactly too keen on the idea of spelling it out for his boyfriend. Yes, the magicat was known to urinate noisily. Call it a quirk of his First One ancestry. It was most certainly not hard to understand. He was definitely laughing on the inside, though, watching playfully with his tail at attention as the blotter mechanic had his realization. Sure, he was blushy, but Harper was definitely getting something out of this. 

“Oh. So I was hearin’...” Looker pursed his lips and gave a slight nod, “ _ Nice. _ ” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harper teasingly asked, as if he didn’t already know. 

“Gah, nothin’, nothin’ at all. You’re alright, Peach,” the blotter shrugged awkwardly, running a hand through his mousy curls, “I--I just have profound appreciation for a great set of hydraulics is all.” 

“Atta boy! You get it!” Blossom smiled at Looker, then turned to face Harper again with playful eyes, “He gets it, Meowmeow. You can hear it in his voice. Such profound respect for such loud, dominant pissing.” 

“Have you been hanging out with Dee again?” Harper asked. 

“Sorta. They were a dancer at our gig in Astarte,” Blossom explained, “Why?” 

“No reason,” Harper smirked knowingly to himself. He knew that level of drama anywhere. “You’re kinky idiots. Both of you.” 

“Okay, well, first of all, calling you an idiot is my thing. How dare you,” Blossom put a hand to her collar bone in feigned shock, “Second, I’m aware. No need to rub it in.” 

“Kinky I’ll concede, Peach, but I dunno about idiot,” Looker teased, faintly defensive. 

“You once told me ketchup was a vegetable, honey,” Harper grimaced. 

“What? Ain’t it?” the blotter mechanic asked, seeming genuinely curious. He really didn’t know. 

Harper sighed, cracking a weak-but-genuine smile as he ran his hands over his furry face and up over the thickness of his scalp. It just now occurred to him that he hadn’t felt quite so attracted to his partners in pretty much forever, and that was saying something. He’d been swept off his feet by Blossom ever since they were both kids, really, and as their relationship had evolved he felt it had only gotten better, more exciting. Looker practically needed no introduction, this vagabond from beyond the reach of the EPG’s civilization, this handsome stranger with a troubled past and a beautiful smile who sauntered into Harper’s life and made him question every single assumption he’d had until that point. Here the two of them were, praising him for how loudly he could empty his bladder of all things. It was such an odd situation to be in, yet for some reason that just made it all the more enjoyable in his eyes. 

“See what I mean, Bloss?” Harper winked, “Kinky idiots. Kinky  _ dumbasses,  _ even.” 

“Careful, Meowmeow,” Blossom recoiled, again performing a mockery of perturbation, “Keep talking like that and you might find yourself in a fight you can’t finish. I mean,  _ idiot _ I can do. Everyone calls everyone an idiot out here. Your moms,  _ my  _ moms, Looker’s dads...probably Looker’s dads, anyway.” 

“It’s a little different in frontier-talk, but it’s the same basic idea, yeah,” the blotter mechanic interjected. 

“Yeah, exactly. Idiots are idiots, it’s the lay of the land on this planet.  _ Dumbasses,  _ though?  _ Dumbasses _ ? Oh, sweet kittycat,” the half-scorpioni punk had a cheeky--if playfully hostile--gleam in her eyes, beneath the shine of her mercury-coloured undercut, “That I cannot abide.” 

“What are you gonna do about it? Aggressively compliment me some more?” Harper raised a brow, defiance dripping from his sweet, awkward voice. 

“Keep fucking around and you’ll find out,” Blossom put a strong arm around her lover, pulling him in with force that scared and flattered him all at once. He squeaked happily as she kissed his forehead, sounding not unlike a kitten (which made sense, of course). “‘Aggressive’ definitely works, but it’ll be a lot more than compliments that you’ll be gettin’.” 

“Give him hell, darlin’,” Looker egged Blossom on playfully. 

“Just me?” Blossom asked. 

“Yeah, come on! What gives, baby? I called you a dumbass too, you really gonna let me get away with that?” Harper sounded glaringly disappointed. Quite the glutton for punishment, it seemed. Then again, if the judicators in question were his lovers, he had every reason to be. 

“Ah. Reckon you raise a good point, Peach,” the machinist nodded. 

“Perfect! Good!” Harper laughed, then cleared his throat, “Now then, you pair of dumbasses. This master plan of yours wouldn’t happen to involve the ‘kinky’ part of ‘kinky dumbass’, would it?” 

“Take a wild guess,” Blossom sneered. 

“Oh, I dunno, I think there’s too much pressure there. Might look stupid if I get it wrong,” the ginger catboy shrugged, aloof, jeering his lovers onward as always. 

“Haven’t done wrong by us yet, Peach. Give ‘er a go,” Looker leaned himself so close his stubble was against the furnishings of Harper’s ear, “Don’t be afraid to get it wrong. You’re mighty cute when you’re embarrassed.” 

“That right?” Harper asked, trying to continue his veneer of cool despite how flustered he was getting. Unfortunately, his tail left him with few secrets. 

“Oh, definitely. Cute as a button,” the blotter machinist wrapped his firm arms around Harper’s chest, holding on tight, “Hopefully that ought to be a hint to help your guessin’.” 

“Hmm,” Harper raised his eyebrows, still not letting on a single detail of his own hypotheses about his partners’ desires. He knew well enough what they were getting at, of course, but it was fun to play dumb. “Well, whatever it is, I’m sure it’ll be interesting. Anyway, when the hell is breakfast gonna get here? Like, I’m famished.” 

“Oh, First Ones, I’m guessing plant mom found another one of those mutated shrubs again…” Blossom sighed and planted her face in her palms, “...Hang in there, kittycat. It’s worth it, I swear.” 

“You sure, Bloss?” Harper asked skeptically. 

“Yeah, no, I went to this place a month ago the day after our gig here in town. The French toast is the tits. Promise,” Blossom gave a nod of reassurance, then looked over at her other boyfriend, “Looker was there, he’ll tell you. Right, cowboy?” 

Looker shrugged indifferently. Blossom’s face pinched furiously, like she’d just heard someone call Harper a homophobic slur. Happened more often than one might think. Time alone would not heal the old wounds of individual intolerance, not even in the fifty-first century. Apparently, this was somehow equitable to Looker professing his lack of enthusiasm towards a Station 17 greasy spoon’s breakfast menu. 

“I dunno, I don’t rightly remember. Was mighty tired that mornin’. Coffee mighta been alright, I guess, but that’s about all I remember,” the blotter mechanic mused, the brown wisps of his brows furrowing in intense concentration. The memories must’ve been pretty darn hazy. 

“Well, I suppose I can accept that answer,” Blossom said flatly, “I guess we’ll just have to wait for my moms to eventually get back--hopefully before the food gets cold--and we’ll jog your memory then. You’ll be impressed, I guarantee it.” 

“Yeah? And if I ain’t?” Looker asked, almost a dare, “You know I can be picky when I wanna be, darlin’.” 

“Then I’ll be disappointed.” 

“Aww, disappointed? My apologies in advance then, Rose.” 

“Nah, it’s alright. There are other things you have good taste in,” Blossom rested a hand on Harper’s leg. The catboy yelped quietly, unsure if the move was intentional but receptive to it regardless. “Like Harper, for instance.” 

“That, I ain’t gonna fight you on,” Looker took a seat beside Harper, wedging the ginger magicat between his two partners--two  _ main  _ partners, he should say--with the blue blotter’s arm around his lithe little shoulders. 

“You two better be going somewhere with all this,” Harper snicked, a pang of impatience under his breath. 

“Just you wait, Peaches...I almost feel sorry for Blossom’s poor moms, putting us up like this,” Looker laughed, “Here’s hopin’ the walls ain’t that thin.” 

“Oh, trust me, cowboy, if they were I would’ve moved out  _ way  _ earlier. My moms make us look like a fucking Sunday school,” Blossom also laughed, though it was strained and had hints of cringing in it, “Anyway, gentlemen, there’ll be plenty of time to be horny later. First we eat.” 

The three lovers were briefly pulled away from their conversation as a noise bit through their giggling. Footsteps, curious and closing in, creaking across the upstairs floor. The trio were instantly drawn to the noise, knowing full well who was moving around up there. It seemed their other travelling companion had finally roused, having spent most of the morning catching up on rest. She hadn’t taken too kindly to being woken up so early for the drive to Station 17; it seemed that early rising was not a skill taught in the Royal Navy, not even at its highest echelons. 

“Well, speakin’ of bein’ horny,” Looker murmured suggestively. 

“Ugh…” Fleet Admiral Mermista grumbled as she descended the stairs, rubbing sleep from her eyes, “...Hey, Billy.” 

“Howdy, Star Hawk. Sleep okay?” Looker asked. 

“Yeah, great, just great...didn’t really help that you guys decided to make popcorn for some reason, though,” the ultramarine-haired naval commander groaned in languid frustration. 

“Sorry, what?” Blossom looked quizzical, “No one was making popcorn, ma’am. My moms went to get breakfast.” 

“That’s what I thought. Kinda threw me off,” Mermista explained. 

“No worries. We would never do something like that without you, ma’am,” Blossom smiled. 

_ Always with the ‘ma’am’,  _ Harper thought, a slight smile creeping along his face,  _ Never would’ve taken Bloss for such a bottom. _

“Then what the hell was I hearing? Fuck me, I feel like I’m going crazy here. Ugh…” the Fleet Admiral’s frustration was palpable, face buried in the palms of her strained hands. 

Harper pondered if Mermista might have been suffering from exploding head syndrome or something. It happened, it wasn’t unheard of, he’d known some people who heard the odd random loud noise before sleeping from time to time. Might’ve been a war dream, alternatively. Between Looker and his moms, Harper was definitely accustomed to the concept of nightmares about military service; it seemed after two massive interplanetary wars a full decades ago and a whole bunch of little ones afterwards, a lot of people were losing sleep over all those sights that stayed with them. However, the redheaded magicat mused over the descriptor--’making popcorn’--for a few moments and found himself having an epiphany. He felt his cheeks heat up from the realization, his fur turning a deeper shade of maroon red around his face. 

_ Me and my damn ‘hydraulics’,  _ he thought to himself, letting out a quiet, subtle snort-laugh. 

“Well, just goin’ off your descriptor, I reckon you must’ve been hearin’ the same thing as the rest of us. We were just givin’ Peach here a hard time about it, actually,” Looker explained. 

“Why? What did he do?” Mermista asked, seemingly even more confused, “Am I gonna have to tell your moms what you’re doing, Harper?” 

“Oh, First Ones, please don’t...I’m still not hearing the end of it from the last time you talked to them about me,” Harper sucked in a breath and laughed nervously. 

“Heh, damn. Yeah, I feel you. Thinking I might block Catra’s number if she decides to leave any more of her... _ eloquent  _ voicemails,” Mermista took a minute to recall the horrendously inflammatory messages she’d received from Harper’s cat mom, shuddered, and then turned to face Looker, “Anyway, Billy, go on. Was just teasing Peaches about the moms thing.” 

“Right. Well, y’see, it’s like this,” Looker cleared his throat, laughed, sighed, then cleared his throat a second time, “Sorry. There ain’t no easy way to say this.” 

“Just get on with it, you stupid man,” Mermista demanded playfully, the usual snarky-yet-humored venom seeping through her dare. 

“Okay, okay! So anyway, uh, what you were hearing…” Looker turned to Harper, watched as the catboy nodded reluctantly, and looked back at the Fleet Admiral, “...Harper was, uh, passin’ water.” 

“Yeah, I don’t speak redneck,” Mermista shrugged, “Do one of you wanna translate? I don’t--” 

“I was peeing, Fleet Admiral,” the ginger magicat sighed. 

“Oh, so--” the naval officer’s eyes widened in realization, “I see. Well, uh, you’re...certainly staying hydrated, at least.” 

“Boy’s got a fine set of hydraulics ‘tween his nethers. I’ll say that a hundred times,” the blotter mechanic stated with an odd amount of pride. 

“Please don’t,” Harper cringed. 

“No, no, keep going! He’s cute when he’s embarrassed!” the Fleet Admiral sneered, “Can’t believe I’m saying this, but keep hyping up Harper’s piss, Billy!”

“Remind me why we brought her again?” Harper asked, feeling the inquiry was redundant. 

_ I’m her bitch, Blossom’s her bitch, Looker’s definitely her bitch,  _ he thought,  _ Is there anyone here who isn’t her bitch? Well, I mean, Blossom’s moms, as far as I know. They’re pretty out there, though, so who knows.  _

“I’m on shore leave, thought it might be a fun way to kill time,” Mermista explained. 

“You’re on shore leave an awful lot,” Harper commented. 

“Well, we’re not at war with anyone,  _ per se,  _ so…” the commander shrugged, “Why? What’s your deal, Peaches?” 

“I don’t have a deal.” 

“No, come on, you can tell me how you really feel. We’ve all seen each other naked here, no one’s gonna judge.” 

“ _ Make me,  _ space pirate.” 

“Ohoho, so it’s gonna be like that then?” Mermista sounded almost genuinely annoyed. Almost. “Well, Peaches, I’m thinking of making you do a lot of things since you woke me up with your... _ freakishly loud urination _ .” 

“Okay! Okay!” Harper waved his hands like a conductor wanting his orchestra to cease, “New plan! Does anyone have anything to add that  _ isn’t  _ about my...umm, Looker, what did you call it again?” 

“Hydraulics, darlin’,” Looker nodded. 

“Thanks. So, does anyone have anything to say that doesn’t revolve around my hydraulics?” Harper asked. 

The magicat’s other three lovers looked puzzled for a moment, taking some time to quietly discuss the ultimatum amongst themselves. Less than five minutes into the odd little symposium, Blossom suddenly raised her hand. 

“Yeah, Bloss?” Harper feared what would come next. If the other three kept this up, he’d likely get just as bladder shy as Looker was. And that was saying something. 

“Pretty sure I just heard my moms pull in, dude,” the half-scorpioni punk stated flatly. 

“Ah, fucknuggets! Okay, okay, everyone pretend like we were talking about something normal!” Harper panicked, “ _ Definitely  _ no more hydraulic-talk! Act normal!  _ Act normal! _ ” 

And so they did. 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Might write more kinky nonsense if people respond well to this or at least respond indifferently to this I dunno we'll see


End file.
